Quintessence of Grace
by FoolishWit
Summary: The wars are over, and peace has settled. The idyllic, isolated Habitats have allowed life to continue despite the environmental damage done to the Earth. Grace Hammond is content with her somewhat charmed life until her father is taken from her, and her world tilts into one of conspiracy and revenge. (Genderswap Hamlet, begins just prior to events of the play.)
1. Act 1 Scene 1

**Author's Notes:** Quick cheat sheet for everybody: I changed all the names.

Grace Hammond...Hamlet  
Horatio Wren...Horatio  
Rose...Rosencrantz  
Gordon...Guildenstern  
Joanna Poulsen...Ophelia  
Leith Poulsen...Laertes  
Dr. Poulsen...Polonius  
Chancellor Hammond...Hamlet Sr.  
Maraam Kilroy...Gertrude  
Ansel Claude...Claudius  
Chief Forkin...Fortinbras

...:::...

Act 1, Scene 1

...:::...

"You're late! Why are you so late!? You have to catch up now-here!" Grace almost tackled Wren as he approached the tall table his friends were already seated around. Pushing a drink into his hand, she kissed him on the cheek and pointed at the open stool next to hers. "I've been ordering drinks for four people since we got here, so you have some work to do, my friend…"

Wren made a show of stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders as if he were preparing for a fight. "Okay. I'm on it. But first things first..." Bypassing the seat saved for him, he set the drink Grace had handed him down on the table and enveloped the guest of honor in a hug. "Congratulations, Joey," he said warmly.

"Thank you!" Jo replied, returning the embrace tightly. "And thank you for coming out tonight to celebrate!"

"Wouldn't miss it," he said, his smile fading slightly as he sat down and realized how much alcohol he had waiting for him. "Well this explains why you practically fell into my arms a second ago," Wren said, tilting his head toward Grace, but not taking his eyes off the array of full drink glasses in front of him. "You've already had this much to drink?"

"It's a special occasion!" Grace insisted, raising her own drink in the direction of Jo. "We're here to celebrate Jo's graduation!"

"And here I thought we were celebrating her new job!" Rose chimed in, raising her glass towards Grace's.

"We're being thrifty and using her graduation drinks to also celebrate her job," Gordon said, offering a solution that allowed both women to be correct. His voice was almost too quiet to be heard over the increasing noise in the pub, so Rose reached out and turned up the volume on his virtual reality hologram pod. "To Jo!" came through much louder, and Gordon raised an empty, translucent hand, his fingers curled as if he were holding a glass like the others.

"To Jo!" Wren agreed, joining in the toast. Despite Gordon's non corporeal form, everyone around the table inclusively brought their glass close enough that they would have tapped his outstretched hand if they'd been physically able to do so. Wren brought his glass back to his mouth, and Grace quickly placed her hand under the bottom of it, preventing him from lowering it back down.

"Catch up! Catch up!" she coaxed, teasing.

Wren batted her hand away, and coughed, setting his now half-finished drink down. "Remind me not to show up late to these parties anymore," he managed, shaking his head and coughing again.

"Yeah, why the tardiness?" Grace asked. "You're usually Mr. Punctuality?"

"I had the archives pulled up and totally lost track of the time."

"Give us a call next time," Rose said, pointing at the others. "These three were convinced you'd gotten run over by an SDC."

"There hasn't been an injury due to a self driving car in over eighty years, guys," Wren said, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, then why didn't you call?" Grace asked, nudging his drink closer as a hint.

Wren wrinkled his nose apologetically. "My Device is dead. I must have forgotten to dock it when I got to the library."

"Yours dies by late afternoon if you don't charge it? What's wrong with it?" Grace asked as he pulled his outdated Device from his pocket and tossed it like a lifeless brick onto the table. "Oh, well that's why," Grace said, rolling her eyes and prodding Wren in the side. "I can't believe you're still using one of the old Devices! The keypads only light in one direction, they have limited resolution for inter-hab holograms, and the new ID Chip med upgrades have made half the storage capacity on that thing redundant!" Grace pulled her own Device from her pocket. "The new ones have been out for almost a year, dude," she pointed out, reaching for Wren's to compare the two.

Wren's reflexes weren't dulled by alcohol, so he snatched his Device from the table before his friend could reach it. Raising an eyebrow, he curled the thin electronic box in against his chest defensively. "Maybe I like my old Device," he said, narrowing his eyes playfully. "And besides, those new ones weren't just handed out with the monthly staples, Grace. The Wealth Distribution Equality Act evened the playing field a little, but it didn't stop the rich from being rich. Not everyone's family invested in scandium in the twenties!" he teased, amidst hoots and whistles as everyone pretended to be scandalized by his jab.

Grace bowed her head and held up her hands in defeat with a smile. "Okay, okay, you're right, I'm sorry." Wren's family was among the comfortable class that received Humanity Staples each month: food, clothing, and other goods necessary to ensure every citizen was healthy and provided for, preventing poverty and suffering in society. Since more than seventy percent of the population received these benefits, it wasn't unusual or cause for embarrassment, but Wren loved giving Grace a hard time about the fact that she'd grown up without them. The Hammonds were one of the richest families in the Denmark Habitat, due mostly to an inherited fortune that had been passed down through the last few generations.

"So, how does it feel to be officially out of school with a degree and a job?" Rose asked, leaning around Gordon to look at Jo. With an exaggerated pout, she added, "I only ask because-despite being the youngest person at this table by several years-you're the only one who has achieved this distinction."

"Rose, seriously, did you have to remind us all about that?" Wren asked, wrinkling his nose.

"I have a job," Gordon pointed out.

"Okay, yes, you do, technically," Rose corrected herself. "You're the highest paid lab rat on Earth." She winked, puckered her lips at his hologram, and blew a kiss in his direction. Passing his hand through hers where it rested on the table as if he could have grabbed it, he smiled back.

Jo took a sip of her drink and shook her head. "The only reason you three are all still in school is because you're working on masters degrees. Or a doctorate!" she added, looking at Rose.

"Be that as it may," Grace interrupted, "it's still incredibly impressive that by twenty-one years old you've managed to graduate with full honors, win a Progression Award for your ideas in-in… Don't tell me… in...?"

Jo let her friend struggle for a moment with an amused smile on her face before putting poor Grace out of her misery. "Sustainable Mimics and Apiary-Dependent Agriculture," Jo supplied. Grace had never been able to remember the details of Jo's chosen field of study. Wren always joked that Jo didn't have a green thumb; her entire right arm was green, while Grace couldn't even manage to regularly dust the fake plants in her living room.

"Yes-that-and secure an amazing job with the Den's local environment department." Grace grinned across the table, and Jo bit her lip and frantically prayed that the flush in her cheeks wasn't terribly noticeable in the dim light. "I used to think of you as an adorable kid sister, but these days the age gap seems like it's all but disappeared. You're an awesome human being, Jo, and we're so lucky to have you in our lives. To Jo!" she finished with a flourish, and raised her glass, prompting the others to do the same.

"You're going to need more drinks soon," Gordon pointed out, waving an ineffectual hand through the empty glassware littering the table.

"If I have too many more, I won't be able to find my way home," Jo protested. "I'll end up sleeping here at the Nunnery!"

"No, no-" Grace protested. "We've got you covered. Rose is responsible when it comes to personal portion control, and Gordon's got a full charge, so even though Wren and I will be completely useless to you by the end of the night, those two-" Grace pointed at the pair seated between Jo and herself. "-will get you home safe and sound."

With a sigh and a smile, Jo gave in. "Okay, one more, but can we make this one a little lighter than the last few?"

"Nope, we are welcoming you into our little grown-up gang with the full-octane stuff," Grace said immediately, elbowing Wren to catch the server behind him. "We need five aviations here, and another basket of the buffalo kale chips!" she called in the direction of the server, shouting above the increasing noise in the pub.

Before the order could be confirmed, Wren spun on his stool and caught the server with a smile. "I'm sorry," he said, leaning toward her. "I'm sure my friend here meant to say please, but she was raised in a terribly backwards household, and we're only just now beginning to civilize her." Wren rolled his eyes and continued, "Doesn't ask for things nicely; look at her-doesn't even take her hat off indoors-talks with her mouth full…" Wren's smile grew as the server's stressed frown slipped, and the corners of her lips began to turn up. "We'd love five aviations when you get a chance, but there's no rush, since we're celebrating; we don't want the party to end too early…"

With a nod and a genuine smile, the server disappeared back into the crowd.

"What, no number? No date? No invitation back to your place this evening?" Grace teased.

"We're here for Jo tonight, Grace, I'm trying to not monopolize the attention," Wren said with a self-satisfied smile, tapping the front brim of Grace's hat down over her eyes. She swatted blindly at his hand and quickly adjusted it in order to see again. "Besides, I know where she works," Wren added, gesturing around them. "When I want a date, I'll just come back and ask her then."

"Ugh, you are such an egotistical flirt," Grace groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Is there a problem with that?" Wren asked.

"Well...you could be a bit more selective," Rose suggested. When Wren raised his eyebrows questioningly, she continued, "It's just that it's hard to take you seriously when you flirt so shamelessly with everyone. Basically anything that moves. And even then, I think you would bend that rule and turn your charms on an inflatable cactus if that was the only thing in the room and you were bored."

Gordon laughed and nodded enthusiastically. "I think I actually saw that happen once at one of the Tozer parties last year."

"Oh, come on!" Wren tossed a cardboard drink coaster through his friend, feeling abandoned. It sailed wildly into the back of another patron's head, and Wren shouted a hasty apology at the glaring man. Turning back to Grace and Rose, he said primly, "I take offense to that, ladies. My standards are much higher than 'anything that moves.' By your estimation, that would include transports, Leith Poulsen, and that little plastic drinking bird in a top hat that sits on Grace's desk."

"Oh-no-no, wait, uh-uh…" Rose suddenly pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes as if trying to push out an image. "Now I'm imagining Leith trying to flirt."

This was met by a rousing chorus of laughter and horror, followed by several impressions of what an amorous Leith might entail, the most successful of which was performed by his sister.

"Good evening," Jo said, barely suppressing a smile as she pretended to greet Grace with a comically deepened voice, rounding the table toward her. "My name is Leith Poulsen, and I've taken the liberty of sending my CV to your Device. I saw you here last night, and since I never begin an undertaking without thoroughly checking the background of those individuals involved, I used my security clearance with the Habitat Government to run facial recognition on you this morning when I arrived at the office at seven a.m. sharp." Amidst snorts of laughter, Jo extended a stiff hand toward Grace and cupped her cheek awkwardly as she stepped closer. "And what a symmetrical face it is, too."

"Uggghh!" Grace gave a shudder and squeezed her eyes closed. "Ew, I feel dirty. Do they have shower stalls in the restrooms here?" she cried desperately, swatting Jo's hand away. Jo moved to return to her seat on the other side of the table, but Grace slid a hand around her waist and scooted over, pulling Jo close enough to share her wide stool.

"That was good, Jo," Wren admitted, "but I think Leith would use more four- and five-syllable words to really turn a lady on-"

"People do seem to underestimate the seductive power of a good vocabulary." The deep voice startled the group at the table, and everyone looked up in surprise to see Leith standing several steps away, easily missed in the dim lighting and thick crowd of the pub.

Wren was the first to recover, smoothly stating, "I don't underestimate it. In fact, I myself have been accused of circumlocution on occasion."

"Well, that's a big word," Rose said quickly, thoroughly grateful for the conversational distraction as Jo slid quickly off of Grace's stool to greet her big brother.

"Sounds dirty," Gordon whispered theatrically, joining in.

"It certainly is a big word," Wren agreed, puffing up his chest proudly. "I know lots of big words. In fact, I don't mean to brag, but some have even said that the size of my-"

"No, no-" Grace cut him off. "Whatever you're going to say? Don't. I don't want to hear some thinly veiled double entendre that demonstrates just how witty you are," she explained, turning from the table toward the new member of their party. "Leith! It's been too long. I see you're still adept at sneaking up on people in an incredibly creepy way?"

Leith didn't respond as Grace leaned in to give him a quick, cursory hug devoid of emotion, which was returned in similar awkward fashion. Grace and Leith-though closer in age than Grace and Jo-had never gotten along. Grace loved life, and the pursuit of knowledge, and the thousand beautiful things that popped into her head at any given moment during the day, and she found Leith to be incredibly dull and straight-laced. As kids, on more than one occasion, Leith had discovered some stunt or hijinks she'd planned, and he had invariably tattled on her to the nearest authority figure. Worse still, he never seemed to feel a moment's remorse about it. As teenagers, he would debunk her theories and plans of adventure with a straight face and a stern affect, scolding her about breaking rules and not taking life seriously.

Worst of all, Grace hated that he didn't see what a wonderful father he had. Dr. Poulsen was the perfect dad as far as she was concerned, and yet Leith seemed to only have disappointment-bordering on contempt-for him. He'd never bothered to hide the fact that he considered Dr. Poulsen's appointment as a clinic physician in a generic Community Habitat to be an embarrassing waste of talent. The Medical Habitat, in Leith's opinion, was the only appropriate place to be for any doctor worth their salt. The stereotypical Community doctor was past their prime, or too stupid to have made it in the Medical Habitat environment. Grace knew neither of those things described Dr. Poulsen, but his son seemed staunchly opposed to being proud of his father.

And disrespecting Dr. P was something Grace had never been able to abide.

Leith nodded a silent greeting to both Rose and Gordon before turning to Wren. "Horace." Leith offered his hand. Wren's jaw clenched slightly, and there was a moment's hesitation before he reached out and accepted the handshake.

"You know, your dedication to calling me by my first name over the years would be admirable if it weren't so annoying," he pointed out.

Leith frowned. "I suppose I just feel that going by one's last name denotes a certain impersonality."

"Impersonality? Look who's talk-" Grace's mumbled dig was cut short as Rose kicked her under the table.

"And the usual convention has always been to create a nickname from your given name, not your family name," Leith added.

"Oh, yes, please enlighten me," Wren said testily. "What nickname do you think I should go by? 'Convention', as you suggest, typically forms the nickname by shortening the name-taking either the beginning or the end. Occasionally adding a -y. That leaves me with 'Whore' and 'Rass.' Neither of which improves with the addition of the afore-mentioned -y." Wren turned back to the table with a sour look on his face and reached for his half-empty glass.

"Do you have a middle na-?"

"Barnardo," Wren said miserably into his drink before finishing it with one large swallow. Setting the empty glass down on the table, he gave a single, quick shake of his head. "So not better."

"Well, I think 'Wren' suits you," Rose said. "And since it's all I've ever called you, switching now would be next to impossible, so I think you're stuck as far as I'm concerned."

"Here, too," Gordon agreed, raising a finger to be counted.

"Yep, totally stuck," Grace agreed with a smile, leaning over and throwing an arm across Wren's shoulders.

"He'll never switch," Jo said, shooting her brother a patient smile. "He'll call you Horace until the day he dies. Just like he'll never call me anything but Joanna."

"Well, he can call you whatever he wants to; you'll always be Jo to us," Grace said, as their server arrived at the table carrying a large tray of vaguely blue drinks in martini glasses. "And today, officially, you are 'Jo The Graduate', so-" Grace passed the glasses around the table, and offered the back of her hand to the waiter to be scanned. "-I propose yet another toast-"

"This is the fourth one!" Jo lamented, slightly embarrassed at the attention. She accepted the drink Grace handed to her while Gordon offered Leith one of the drinks in Wren's backlog, since Grace hadn't ordered enough to include the new addition to their party. Leith gave him a polite nod of thanks.

"-another toast-" Grace repeated, her voice increasing in volume, "-to the newest member of the Den's work force, the sweetest person I know, and one hell of a kickass environmentalist… Jo Poulsen!"

A resounding chorus of various shouted congratulations erupted from the table as the cocktails were held aloft and clinked over the center of the table.

Jo grinned as she took a generous swallow of her drink and set it down decisively on the table. "I'll be right back," she announced.

"No! Where are you going?" Grace asked, winding her arms around Jo's waist again and tugging her back onto their previously shared stool. "This is your party-there's no way I'm letting you up. The last time you did this you tried to buy a round for all of us, and that's not gonna happen tonight."

Jo smiled as Grace hugged her tighter and swept Jo's hair to one side to rest her chin on her shoulder.

"My bladder kindly requests you let me leave the table," Jo explained. "I'll be right back-no funny business, I promise."

"Oh, okay, fine," Grace grumbled, teasing. "I guess if you have to…" Jo was released, and she made a beeline for the back of the dark stone hall.

The Nunnery wasn't the only bar in the Den, but it was certainly the most interesting, and the most expensive. Years ago, as the habitats were first being constructed, teams of experts were assembled to collect and preserve the works of art around the globe that hadn't been destroyed in the wars. Paintings, sculptures, and even buildings of cultural significance were assigned to each habitat, while the great libraries of the world were plundered for copies of as many books as possible. The University habitat housed the main collection of literature, but the entire population was able to access digital copies of everything on any Device.

The Nunnery was one of six relocated buildings brought into the Den and reconstructed, piece by piece. The old, repurposed cathedral was a small one, by historical standards, but impressive nonetheless: nothing in the Den remotely resembled the old, worn stone walls, or the steep, gothic struts that climbed alongside the towers on top. The stained glass windows made rainbows dance on the walls if the sun hit them at the right angle in the afternoon, and the mix of hanging lanterns, candelabras, and chandeliers made for a dim, other-worldly atmosphere at night that was like nowhere else. The standard lighting in every other structure in the Den was tested, and uniform, and optimal, and the gloom of the Nunnery was delightfully mysterious.

Jo pushed the door of the restroom open when she was done and ran straight into her big brother.

"Oh-excuse me, I'm sorry-" Jo stepped back from the broad chest she'd collided with and looked up. "Leith? What are you doing back here? The men's room is over on the south wall-"

Leith looked down at his sister seriously. "Your infatuation with Grace Hammond needs to end. _Now_."

...:::...

TBC.


	2. Act 1 Scene 2

Author's Note: People always argue so much about whether Hamlet was actually crazy or just faking it, and if he was actually a depressed, angry prince, or whether we only get a glimpse of him after his father's been murdered and he's been sidelined from University and cut off from his friends. I figured I needed a decent amount of time to get to know Grace and her friends before the crap hits the fan, so their characters are more established. Makes any different behavior later on seem more obvious when you know what their personalities were like when they were happy!

...:::...

Act 1, Scene 2

...:::...

Jo opened her mouth to object, but Leith hushed her. "I haven't said anything before now because I figured it was just a phase. A crush you'd grow out of. But every time I come back to visit you seem more and more enamored with her, and it's a _problem_ , Joanna."

A woman approached them and squeezed past down the hallway. Jo stepped aside quickly and looked down at the ground, hating the feeling of embarrassment that crept up her neck. Other than Grace, of course, her older brother was the last person on Earth she wanted to have this discussion with.

"Grace is not flirting with you, even if it seems that way," Leith explained unemotionally. "No matter how many times she sips out of your drink or puts her arms around you, she doesn't mean any of it beyond the affection of an older sister for one of her siblings. She's paying you as much attention as she would a puppy."

Jo's gut twisted, and she wished she'd refused the last drink that had been shoved into her hands.

"And even if she hadn't grown up thinking of herself as part of our family, she's not someone you should set your sights on. That silver spoon she was born with makes her virtually incapable of truly understanding what life is like for anyone at the Humanity level. Which, with your job in the farming sector, is what you'll always be." Leith noted the twitch under his sister's left eye. It was her tell: a small, unconscious signal that she was upset by the topic of conversation but unwilling to argue the point. He'd always wished he'd been able to open his little sister's eyes to the people of the world, but it was no use. Years of trying, and he still thought she was as naive and malleable as a child.

"Grace is a good person," Jo said quietly, refusing to look at her brother.

"Grace isn't a _bad_ person," Leith corrected. "But she's toiling away at a masters degree in a useless, historical field; she doesn't work for a living; she doesn't help people." Leith ticked off his points on the fingers of one hand. "She's a Hammond, with Hammond money, and as such, she could play toy soldiers all day long for the rest of her life and still have more money than every other family in the Den. There is _no_ substance to that girl," Leith said, gesturing back toward their table.

Another eye twitch.

"Joanna, I'm not saying this to hurt you," Leith said quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm saying this because I don't want to see you embarrassed. Which is exactly what you'll be if Grace finds out about your little crush. Even if she were an exemplary, mature human being, and even if she _didn't_ think of you as her sister, you _know_ women are not her type. You are setting yourself up for failure in several different ways, and mark my words: this is not going to end well if you tell her."

Jo shuffled her feet slightly and nodded at the ground.

"Okay?" Leith prompted.

" _Okay_ ," Jo hissed, desperate for the conversation to be over. She wished she had the courage to fire back at him that he wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know.

Leith nodded and turned away, walking back toward their table. Jo closed her eyes and leaned back against the cool stone wall behind her, counting slowly to twenty. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, looking for her Device, and her fingers brushed over a small, firm piece of paper. Jo's shoulders sagged as she pulled it out and reread the card that had been tucked into the bouquet delivered to her home that morning.

 _Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl! Congrats again, Jo!  
_ _Love you to the moon and back,  
_ _Grace xoxo_

Jo bit her lip, read the card one last time, and tossed it in the nearest trash can on her way back to the table.

"She's back! Finally!" Grace bellowed as Jo reclaimed her original seat, quietly slipping onto her stool as if she could join the party again without being noticed. "Here-this one was yours!" Grace leaned across the table to push Jo's drink toward her.

"Thanks," Jo said, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"So, Jo-" Rose noted the slump in Jo's shoulders, pausing slightly before continuing. "-you haven't told us what your new job entails!" she prompted brightly, hoping to nudge the new graduate's mood back toward what it had been before she'd left the table. "I know you'd looked into several different positions. Do you know yet which part of the Den's Agriculture Department you'll be in?"

Jo nodded, licking her lips. "The Free Pollination sector," she said, her voice barely audible above the loud music coming from the DJ at the altar. "Wildflowers... non-edible plants... bee hives..." Not meeting anyone's eyes, Jo shrugged. "I know it's not fancy, or-" She cut her eyes toward Leith briefly. "-or influential, but… I still think the work will be interesting."

"Of course it'll be interesting!" Rose said, still attempting to coax a smile from Jo. "That was your first choice, right?"

Jo nodded, but said nothing else.

Grace frowned, confused. "What's going on, Joey-what's up? Your mood has just…" Grace narrowed her eyes and turned to look at Leith. "Did you say something to her when you left the table a minute ago? You've been here all of ten minutes, and you've managed to put your foot in it, haven't you? This is a _graduation party_ , asshole, you don't corner the guest of honor as soon as you arrive and _insult_ her-"

Jo was quick to jump in. "Grace, no, it's fine, he didn't-"

"She just won a Progression Award!" Grace continued, incorrectly assuming that whatever Leith had said to deflate his little sister so effectively had been in regards to her profession. Of _course_ he didn't respect her chosen career, beekeeping in the Den; just like he didn't respect his father for working in a small habitat clinic instead of in the Medical Habitat. Stabbing a finger at him, she leaned closer over the table. "She's got a degree in something so technical that even when I'm stone cold sober I can't remember the details of it. Her research has already changed the way our plants are grown in the community habitats-"

"I'm aware," Leith said testily. "I've read her-"

"-she's not just out in the orchards picking apples, or planting kale; her work is _important_."

"You're right, her work _is_ important-but so is farming," Leith interrupted and waved a hand at the food on the table. "What's wrong with picking fruit? You wouldn't be able to order your fancy kale chips if people weren't out there planting it in the first place. The traditional farming positions are a perfectly acceptable way to earn existence pay and monthly staples. Those people work hard for their living." Leith raised an eyebrow at Grace. "You should try it sometime."

Grace shoved back from the table angrily, and Wren made a grab for her arm. Jo shot up from her chair and moved quickly to stand in front of Grace, blocking her view of Leith.

"Let's dance! I want to dance. Grace-" Jo tugged at Grace's upper arm and looked at her entreatingly. "You keep saying this is my party, and I want to dance. Come dance with me."

"Jo,"Leith said sharply, shooting his sister a warning look. "I don't think that's a good idea-"

Ignoring her brother, Jo gave another pull on Grace's arm. "And Rose? Rose is going to come, too. Aren't you, Rose?"

Rose swallowed the last of her drink in one large gulp and pushed herself away from the table. "Of course! Yes! Look! I'm dancing with Jo-come dance with us, Gracey! Let's go…"

The two girls pulled Grace, still scowling over her shoulder, up the steps to the chancel and into the small throng that had formed in front of the DJ at the alter.

Wren sighed and shook his head, moving over to the stool next to Leith. "I know you and Grace have never gotten along, but you _know_ her, man. You know exactly which buttons to push, and you _had_ to know what you said was going to light her up."

"She's spoiled," Leith said matter-of-factly.

Wren bobbed his head and took another drink. "Yep," he agreed easily. "But the minute she's made aware of a deficit in someone else's life that she can fix, she does it. Whatever it is." Reaching into his pocket, Wren pulled out his Device. "She made fun of me for having an out-dated Device tonight. I said I like this old model." Setting it down on the table, he continued, "Within a month she'll have bought me the newest one. If I refuse the gift, she'll bug me until I accept it. She won't expect a single thing in return; she won't even see it as a big deal." Gesturing to the mess of empty glasses and picked-over plates of food on the table, he added, "She's the one who ordered most of this, and she'll pick up the entire tab tonight without even blinking, because she wanted Jo's graduation celebration to be spectacular. Because she wanted to _spoil_ her." Wren took another swig of his drink and put it down on the table, slipping his Device back into his jacket as he stood. "She went to every ceremony and graduation event Jo had this week. This is the first thing you've shown up at. Now, I know-" Wren rushed on before Leith could interject. "-you've got a big fancy job, and you're needed in the Bol, and we're all very impressed, but…" Wren shrugged. "Grace has a good heart. And if nothing else, you should appreciate the fact that she absolutely adores your little sister, and has done everything in her power tonight to make her smile."

Wren reached across the table, grabbed Gordon's pod, and clipped it to his belt. "Now, _we're_ going to go join the girls. I'd invite you to come with us, but I know you hate dancing, so you've just inherited the considerable honor of saving our spot for us." Wren stood as Gordon straightened through his stool, and the pair moved off toward the dance floor, leaving Leith alone at the table.

...:::...

TBC.


	3. Act 1 Scene 3

Act 1, Scene 3

...:::...

"Are you _sure_ you're okay to get home?" Grace asked again as the group stood outside the Nunnery.

"Absolutely fine," Rose assured her. "I've been drinking nothing but Rehydrant cocktails for the last two hours, and besides-" she tapped Gordon's pod clipped to her bag. "I've got my guard dog with me. Anything happens and he'll hack into every alarm in this place and have scrambled an ambulance to my exact location before you can say 'over protective'."

Gordon smiled dimly in the street light. "We'll be fine, Grace. Promise."

Grace gave Rose a hug and waved at Gordon as the pair headed off in the direction of Rose's family home.

"Oh, wait-!" Grace's face fell as she realized there was a flaw in her plan for the evening. Usually, after a night out at the Nunnery, she walked back to the Poulsen's home with Jo and crashed in Leith's old bedroom. "You're home," she said, wrinkling her nose in Leith's direction. They'd come to a silent truce after the spat earlier in the evening, but both of them were still giving the other a purposefully wide berth.

"Not for long. You can still have my room, as per usual," Leith said, his voice deep and tired, though he was still standing with irritatingly good posture. "I'm on the first transport out today. Before dawn. I'll just make some coffee when I get back to our family's house and then head out."

"Are you sure…?" Grace asked suspiciously.

Leith gave her a curt nod.

"Okay." Grace turned to Wren and hugged him somewhat inelegantly. "And are _you_ sure you're okay getting home?" Grace asked into his shoulder. "I always worry about you when we leave here-you've got farther to stumble home than the rest of us."

" _Pff_ ," Wren scoffed, keeping one arm wrapped around Grace while the other fumbled in her jacket pocket. He withdrew her Device and tilted his head, keying in her passcode behind her back. She tried to end the hug, but found herself trapped in the loop of Wren's long arms as he continued working on his technological fidgeting.

"What-what are you doing?" she asked, confused, trying to crane her head around to see what he was up to behind her back.

Wren finally released her and took a step back, holding out her Device, which she snatched back clumsily. "I'll be fine!" he said with a smile. "I ordered an esdy. It'll be here in less than five minutes."

"On _my_ Device!"

"Mine's dead! Besides, I thought you wanted to make sure I got home safe?" Wren paused and leaned in, his eyes comically wide. "You _do_ want me to get home safe...don't you?"

Grace gave a grunt of frustration and waved him off, walking back toward Jo and Leith. "Fine; enjoy riding home in style, you thieving parasite. You're lucky I adore you. And remember to charge your damn Device next time!"

"Oh, come on!" Wren shouted down the block at Grace's retreating form. "You have to be impressed at my ability to lift your Device and order a car without you realizing!"

"Shh! You're drunk!" Grace briefly turned around to hiss at her friend, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal a smile.

" _You're_ drunk!" he bellowed back with a grin.

"Ugh. We could have had _one_ more round…" Grace insisted as the trio turned a corner and set off in the direction of the Poulsen's. "It's only midnight!"

"It's after three in the morning and the bar was closing," Leith corrected her.

Grace rolled her eyes and gave a huff, linking arms with Jo and taking a few steps ahead of her older brother. Despite Grace's impressive level of inebriation, she was well aware that the move came off as a childish attempt at exclusion, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I think someone's been messing with the temp controls in the Den," Grace mumbled, scuffing the heels of her boots as she walked slowly down the sidewalk, unwilling to expend the energy needed to raise her feet properly with each step.

"I can assure you, there are far too many safeguards in place for anyone to have 'messed with' something as crucial as the intra-habitat climate," Leith intoned blandly, maintaining the space Grace had created behind the two girls.

Grace wrinkled her nose in response. "I'm cold," she stated, somewhat petulantly, as if her perception of the temperature was all the proof she needed that something wasn't as it should be. "I hate being cold. It depresses me..."

"Oh, come on, admit it. You _enjoy_ being depressed," Jo said with a sleepy smile. "It makes you introspective, and that gives you material to talk about yourself. You _love_ talking about yourself."

Grace clutched at her chest and pretended to stumble, affecting a terribly exaggerated imitation of indignation. "Ouch! Look who's out for blood tonight!"

"No blood; just honesty," Jo said, her smile quirking slightly to one side.

"Mmm, and that's one of the reasons I love you, Jo," Grace said, tilting her head onto her friend's shoulder. As kids, Jo had always been a few inches shorter than Grace, but three or four years ago the younger girl had finally caught up, and now they were almost exactly the same height. "You're always honest with me, but your truths are never malicious."

Jo's smile tightened, but she said nothing.

...:::...

TBC.


	4. Act 1 Scene 4

Act 1, Scene 4

...:::...

"I see I've inherited a second daughter for the evening?"

Dr. Poulsen's deep voice made Grace smile as she passed through the family's front door into their entryway. She looked up to find him standing in a robe and glasses in their hallway that led to the bedrooms. His grey hair was mussed from sleep, which made his thinning hairline more obvious. But even in his state of slight disarray, he still managed an air of dignity.

"I was kidnapped, Dr. P," Grace complained. "These two delinquents grabbed me outside The Nunnery and insisted I come home with them."

Leith hung his jacket in the hall, nodded at his father, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Dr. Poulsen acknowledged his son before turning his attention back to Grace. "Under my orders, my dear," he joked with a deadpan expression. "You see, I've decided to start a pickpocketing gang to steal the wealth of the Den's citizens, and we're trying to recruit you."

"Well, I've got news for you, Fagin," Grace said, stepping forward to peck a kiss on the older man's cheek. "I'm not the one you want. Wren's hands are much sneakier than mine-tell your goons to grab _him_ next time."

Dr. Poulsen chuckled. "Did everyone have a good night?"

Jo nodded, kicking her dirt-stained shoes off onto a mat by the door. "Fantastic. _So_ fantastic, in fact, that we didn't trust Grace to get herself home, and since apparently Leith needs to be on a transport back to the Bol in another two hours, he said Grace can stay in his room like she usually does."

"I didn't realize this was such a quick trip?" Dr. Poulsen frowned and raised his voice so Leith could hear him in the next room.

Grace slumped into a large, comfortable chair in the main living space. "He came back to congratulate his sister. Now that his duty is done, he's afraid extending his visit will require him to have a meaningful conversation with his family members, and possibly _-gasp-_ -even show emotion." Grace opened one eye to look up at Dr. Poulsen. "And we can't have that, now can we?" she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Careful, Grace, he can still rescind the offer of his bed at any point, and I'll honor his request," Dr. Poulsen pointed out, one eyebrow raised. Grace took the gentle admonishment and fell silent.

Leith reemerged from the kitchen, the sounds of the coffee maker muted in the background. "I needed to make this a quick turnaround," he said, his hands in his pockets. "The Bolivia Habitat's elections are next week, and the Vice Chancellor is extremely busy right now. It would be unprofessional to disappear from his campaign for too long at this particular time." Grace couldn't shake the sense that his wide-leg stance and straight posture were probably just as detached in a government meeting as they were in his father's living room. She couldn't imagine him becoming _more_ remote at work. That had to be impossible.

It was really too bad, because he had decent broad shoulders and a handsome face. He dressed nicely. And if he'd just lay off the gel, his hair would probably be-

Grace cringed and ran her tongue over her teeth as she suppressed a shudder. She was physically evaluating Leith Poulsen. Obviously way too much alcohol had been consumed tonight.

Leith's brow creased, and his head tilted slightly as he watched Grace's face twist in disgust. _Crap._ Grace hadn't realized he'd been looking at her. How long had he been aware of her watching him?

"Are you feeling sick?" Leith asked. "Jo, I think she might need to-"

"No, no," Grace insisted, shaking her head and pushing herself up out of the chair. "It's fine. I can hold my liquor. I just…" Grace gave a quick body shake, as if she could shimmy off her previous train of thought. "I just had an unsettling thought and I'd like to scrub the inside of my brain out with some soap. But since that's physically impossible-" Grace gestured in the direction of the back half of the house. "I think it's high time I got some sleep." The fact that it would be in Leith's bed was unfortunate, but probably unavoidable at this point. Grace just hoped she still had enough alcohol in her system to blur the mental misstep from her memory when she woke up in the morning.

Dr. Poulsen nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. Jo, can you make sure she's got everything she needs?"

"On it," Jo said, following Grace down the hallway.

As the girls passed Jo's room, Grace pulled up short, causing Jo to run into the back of her. "Sorry, sorry…" Jo apologized. When Grace didn't start moving again, she added, "What's wrong?"

Grace pursed her lips, staring in at Jo's bed. "Can I just stay in your room tonight?" she asked.

Jo stared at the other girl for a long moment. "...Why?" she finally asked cautiously.

Grace closed her eyes and shook her head. "No reason." Starting forward again, she continued, "Actually, it's because I don't want to catch Monotony from touching any of your brother's things. Do you think it's contagious?"

Jo followed Grace into Leith's room, grabbing a towel from the shelves in the hall on her way. She set the folded terrycloth down on the stark, low dresser along one wall and turned to lean back against it, her arms crossed over her chest.

"You know you haven't thanked Leith yet. For the use of his room," Jo pointed out.

Grace sighed dramatically. "You know I love your family, Jo; most days I wish it was mine, instead of the one I got, but-" Grace raised her hands in surrender. "-I just _do not get_ your brother. How can such a wonderful, loving family produce someone so… _robotic_?"

Jo shrugged, looking down at her feet. "He is who he is, Grace. And prickly as he might be, he's not actually a bad guy."

Grace's shoulders slumped, a flare of guilt licking in her chest. "I know, I know…" She palmed her hat off her head and tossed it onto the bed. "But I can't bring myself to respect someone who doesn't respect your dad."

"He respects him… in his own way," Jo argued.

"I don't see it," Grace grumbled, shrugging out of her jacket and hanging it from the back of a chair. "And you still seem to defer to him! _And_ your dad. I really hope now that you've finished school and gotten a job you'll exercise that backbone of yours a bit more. I know it's in there," she said, pointing a finger at Jo.

Jo sighed. She was exhausted. Due to a multitude of graduation events, she'd had to interact with more people in the last thirty-six hours than she usually saw in a week. She enjoyed the quiet of the environmental section of the habitat, the peaceful whisper of the simulated wind in the trees and crops. She could spend all day in the orchard, or the greenhouse potting flowers, and still have energy to go for a run in the evening. But a few hours of parties and human interaction left her feeling completely drained.

With a shrug, she admitted, "I live in the family quarters. I'm younger than both of them. I… I guess I just try to be respectful."

"Have you thought of moving out? I know you won't have the money to get your own place for years, but you could move in with me? It's not like my dad ever comes home anymore-he lives in the Chancellor quarters almost full-time now," Grace offered, dropping heavily to sit on the edge of the bed. Her concentration directed at removing her shoes, she missed the pained expression that passed over Jo's face.

"Did you know…"

Dr. Poulsen's voice floated into the room from the doorway, but neither occupant turned to look at him. Jo was familiar with her father's leisurely, drawn-out introductions to his stories, and Grace was intently working on the knots of her shoelaces, hunched over her knees.

"...that some cultures believe a hat lying on a bed is a bad omen?"

Grace glanced sideways at the hat she'd discarded a moment ago. "Really? Let me guess. Seven years bad luck? All my hair will fall out? My neighbors will take up ancient religious drumming as a hobby and only practice before dawn?"

Jo, having already heard many of these stories while growing up, shook her head and licked her lips, a small, resigned smile playing on her face. "Depends on the culture. Thespians believed it meant one thing, the Italians believed it meant another. Some thought it suggested death or injury, but most consequences centered around never marrying, or being unlucky in love."

"Pff." Grace successfully removed her second shoe, and flopped backwards onto the bed. "If I ruled the Earth, I'd get rid of marriage as an institution altogether." Her eyes closed, she raised one fist in the air above her and stated with hyperbolic conviction, "No more marriages!"

"You just say that because you're not in love," Jo pointed out, looking down at the carpet.

Grace gave a noncommittal noise and dropped her hand.

"Okay, kiddo, let's let the party animal get some sleep," Dr. Poulsen said, inclining his head back out into the hallway.

Jo pushed off from the dresser and moved to swing Grace's feet up on to the bed, but was met with a sleepy, protesting, "I got it, I got it…" as she crawled under the blankets without assistance.

As she backed away, Jo picked up the hat and moved it to the small bedside table.

"Since when did you become so superstitious?" Grace mumbled.

Jo retreated toward the bedroom door and hit the light switch on the wall. "You're in _my_ house. If you want to tempt fate in _your_ quarters, go right ahead." Before heading to her own bedroom, she shot one last, accusatory glare at the hat on the nightstand.

In sharp contrast to Leith's old room, Jo's was in a constant, comfortable state of disarray. Books spilled off of the shelves, more than one old hardcover hiding species of plants and flowers pressed between its pages, and her closet was an avalanche of practical, well-worn fabric just waiting to happen. Grace had always given Jo a hard time about her messy habits and lack of organization, but Jo knew _exactly_ where everything was. The letters she and Grace had passed back and forth as teenagers when she'd gone through a low-tech, Device-free phase; the cheap trophy they'd won at The Nunnery one trivia night; the expensive jacket Grace had let her borrow and then gifted to her after declaring Jo looked "much hotter in it than I do."

She'd been in love with Grace for as long as she could remember, and she didn't need a hat sitting on a bed-or advice from her brother-to remind her that the direction in which her heart had decided to fling itself was a truly doomed one.

...:::...

TBC.


	5. Act 1 Scene 5

Act 1, Scene 5

...:::...

Dr. Poulsen stifled a yawn on his way back out to the kitchen.

"Less than twenty-four hours, hmm?" he asked.

Leith had downed his first cup of coffee quickly, and was pouring himself a second. "I wanted to show my support for Joanna, but this is an extremely busy month in my habitat, and I couldn't spare the days." He replaced the coffee pot and reached for the small sugar container on the countertop. "I went in early yesterday, completed my full hours, and left in time to catch the last transport here." Leith bent to find the milk in the refrigerator. "I estimate the first transport this morning will get me back in the office by noon, and if I stay late-"

"Are you happy?" Dr. Poulsen interrupted, his tone light. "I know you're working hard, but most people strive for a balance between work and rest. You've got your sights set on becoming Chancellor-I understand that-but if you burn out before you can run for office, all of this hard work will be for nought. I worry that work is your whole life."

Leith didn't look up from his task. "I make these sacrifices willingly. I know what I want, and I know what kind of work ethic and time commitment are necessary to achieve my goal. I don't have _hobbies_ , Dad; I never have." Replacing the milk, he finally looked up at his father. "I enjoy my _work_. I take pride in getting closer to my objective each year. So yes, to answer your question: I'm happy."

"It wouldn't _hurt_ to diversify your interests a bit, you know."

Leith sipped his coffee. Catching his father's eye, he raised his eyebrows and motioned to his cup, silently offering some to the other man, who shook his head, declining the gesture. Leith pursed his lips, considering Dr. Poulsen's suggestion before replying carefully, "I value my current job, I value my potential future jobs, and I value my family. At this time in my life, that's all I feel I need."

Incredibly intelligent and driven, Leith had been working toward greatness ever since he learned the concept of power. He had run for the highest positions in student government in school, he'd pushed himself to earn only the best grades, and had never needed counseling as far as following rules or behaving appropriately. Leith had learned early on that the framework of society was the scaffolding on which he needed to build his life, and those rules, once accepted, could either work _for_ him or _against_ him.

Most of Dr. Poulsen's friends and colleagues had envied the straight-laced nature of his eldest child, assuming a boy who would never consider breaking a rule would be an easy child to raise. On the contrary, Leith had been extremely difficult. The lessons Dr. Poulsen had to teach his son over the years were much more complex than spelling or arithmetic. Leith saw things in black and white, and usually had things planned five steps in advance, which spoiled some of the adventurous escapades of his friends as they grew up. Especially Grace, who would occasionally jump into barely-organized plans with gusto, only to have them doused in practicality by Leith before she could even get out of the gate. Dr. Poulsen always tried to explain to Leith that failure was a natural process of most people's lives, and was a legitimate learning process; he should let the other children experience negative outcomes for themselves.

Empathy, patience, and tolerance had been difficult concepts for Leith to understand, and there were times that Dr. Poulsen doubted he'd actually been successful in teaching them to his son. Leith was the type of person who might objectively comprehend an idea while still disagreeing with it, and without the respect needed to implement it, would refuse to practice it himself.

Dr. Poulsen nodded, heading into the main living space. "Well, is there anything else you'd like to discuss before you leave again? Have you arranged for a ride to the transport hub?"

"No. Thank you for reminding me; I should do that now," Leith said, pulling out his Device.

"Did you have a chance to talk to your sister at all tonight? I'm sure she was pleased to see you, but I know the Nunnery is usually quite loud. Not always the most conducive atmosphere for catching up."

Leith raised an eyebrow as he ordered an esdy. "We talked briefly. Grace and her grand celebration monopolized the majority of the evening," he said, his tone hardening at the mention of Grace.

"Ah yes. Grace. She seemed to be a bit off-kilter tonight. Did you two get into it, as usual?"

"I said nothing that wasn't true. And I believe she owes me an apology."

There was a long pause as Dr. Poulsen weighed the benefits of continuing the current topic of conversation. "Do you know where the word 'apology' derives from?" he finally asked, sitting down in one of the comfortable chairs in the living room. It didn't face his son, and Dr. Poulsen had to turn his head to the side to see Leith in the kitchen.

Leith didn't respond, so his father continued without prompting. "From the Greek; ' _apologia_ ' actually means a speech made in defense of something. It's an attempt to explain the motivation behind one's actions. Plato's _The Apology_ was written about the appeal Socrates made in his own defense at trial when he was brought up on charges of corrupting the youth of Athens."

Leith finished doctoring his cup of coffee and moved to sit at the kitchen table with it. "Mmm. I've read it."

Dr. Poulsen shifted in his armchair, sitting up slightly straighter with a measure of surprise. "You have?"

"I took several philosophy and historical political science courses in school. It came up." Leith sipped gingerly at his hot drink, not looking up at his father.

"Of course you did." Nodding, Dr. Poulsen settled back down into his seat. "Well, my point is only that an apology from Grace-in the truest, classical sense of the word-wouldn't be an admission of guilt or remorse on her part, it would be a categorical defense of her actions. Which, I'm sure, she feels were quite justifiable, and she would be happy to defend." The older man leaned forward with a sigh, his elbows braced on his knees in front of him. "You want her to say she regrets arguing with you and doubting your wisdom, such as it is; you don't want an official explanation for why she behaved the way she did tonight. You don't even _need_ that explanation, because you're a brilliant man, and I'd bet this house that you could play Devil's Advocate with yourself and argue her position, if required. Grace is smart, and her opinions-while not always in line with yours-are rational and intelligent." Dr. Poulsen gave a low groan as he pushed himself up from his chair and tightened the belt of his robe, preparing to head back to bed. "You don't need an apology from Grace," he said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "You already know why she said the things she did."

Leith swallowed his reply, and instead gave a cursory nod.

"Will you get some sleep? An hour on the couch before you leave?" Dr. Poulsen asked.

"I'll sleep on the transport back to the Bolivia Habitat. I'll be fine," Leith responded, lifting his chin.

Dr. Poulsen gave his son's shoulder a squeeze and headed toward the back of the house, his voice fading as it moved away down the hall. "Very well. I'm going to get another hour of sleep, if you don't mind. Wake me before you leave; I want to say goodbye."

...:::...

TBC.


	6. Act 1 Scene 6

Act 1, Scene 6

...:::...

Leith rinsed out his coffee cup and placed it in the cleaner, laced his shoes, and had his bag waiting in the front entryway before he knocked softly on his father's door.

He waited patiently, listening to the muffled rustling of bed covers and footsteps approaching on carpet.

Dr. Poulsen opened the door, squinting in the light of the hallway.

"My car should be here any minute," Leith said.

Dr. Poulsen yawned and nodded, clapping a hand on his son's shoulder and steering them both toward the front door. "Make sure you get some sleep on the transport," he said. "Your boss will think he's boring you if you yawn at him all day."

"I'll get a few hours, Dad, don't worry."

"I'm your father; it's my job to worry. How are you doing on money?"

Leith sighed as he picked up his bag. "I make more than I spend and I don't have debts. Dad-" Leith pointed down the hall to the bedrooms. "-save your advice for Joanna. She needs it; I don't."

Dr. Poulsen smiled patiently. "That-right there-is how I know you still need my guidance. You'll never be done learning; you'll never know _everything_. The fact that you think well-meaning advice-from someone older and more experienced, I might add-is unnecessary just proves that it's _not_. You don't have to be talkative, but _never_ stop listening. Especially as a future Chancellor: you'll be a great one if you listen- _really_ listen-to the citizens in your habitat."

Leith inclined his head toward his father, accepting the counsel.

"When will we see you again?" Dr. Poulsen asked.

"Not until after the election-" Leith looked down as his Device beeped at him, signalling the arrival of his SDC.

Before his son could reach for the front door, Dr. Poulsen stepped forward and enveloped him in a firm hug, clapping a hand across his back. "Thank you for making this trip. I know it meant the world to Jo, and you know I'm always happy to see my son."

Leith juggled his bag in one hand while shoving his Device into a pocket with the other in order to automatically wind one arm around his father. "I wouldn't have missed it. She's family," Leith said as if the explanation was the most obvious thing in the world.

Stepping back, Leith reached for the door, and Dr. Poulsen held it open for his son as he headed down the short front walk to the empty car idling at the curb in the dim morning light. Leith raised a hand in a stoic imitation of a wave, which his father returned as the car pulled away.

Dr. Poulsen watched the tail lights until they turned out of sight around the corner at the end of the street before shutting the door. He headed back toward his room, grateful he was not on call today, and gave a low groan as he shed his robe, removed his glasses, and climbed stiffly back into bed.

His head had barely hit the pillow when his Device rang loudly on his bedside table. With a grunt, he rolled over, feeling his way toward the sound around a cup of water and his glasses. The small, bright screen announced he had an incoming hologram from the Den police chief. Unwilling to get dressed or even turn on a light to accept a two-way hologram at such a cruel hour, he tapped the one-way hologram button and squinted at the blue form of Chief Forkin that suddenly stood at his bedside.

"Dr. Anthony Poulsen?" Chief Forkin asked, attempting to confirm the identity of the person who accepted the call, since she'd been denied a visual. "Vera Forkin. I apologize about the early call, but it's imperative I track down Grace Hammond. She's not answering her Device, but her ID chip shows she's in your family quarters."

"Yes, yes, she is. May I ask what this is about?" Dr. Poulsen asked, pulling on his robe again and fumbling for his glasses.

"I'm sorry, sir, but if you could put me in touch with Ms. Hammond, I'd prefer to talk directly to her."

"Of course. Give me just a moment."

When Dr. Poulsen arrived at his son's bedroom door, he knocked lightly, then slightly louder, and finally called through the door, "Grace? Grace, I'm going to come in. There's an important hologram I think you need to take." Swinging the door open, he switched on a soft lamp on the dresser.

Grace whined into her pillow. "What time is it?"

"Grace, you weren't answering your Device, so Chief Forkin called me. Sit up, sweetheart, she needs to talk to you." Dr. Poulsen held his Device out for Grace to take.

Grace rubbed a hand over her face, crinkling her nose. "Mmm. Okay." She pushed herself up in bed, took the Device, and mumbled, "What is it?" at the hologram beside her.

"Grace Hammond?" the chief verified.

"Yes," Grace answered testily. "What do you need?"

"I'm sorry to inform you, ma'am, but your father-the Chancellor-has been arrested."

...:::...

TBC.

A/N: End of the act! Ready to meet the "bad guys"? ;)


End file.
